


last year's winter

by itisjosh



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Found Family, Gen, Ghost Wilbur Soot, Light Angst, Memories, Memory Loss, Past Character Death, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, References to Depression, Self-Indulgent, Snow, Songfic, Technoblade-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot-centric, i feel like i shouldnt have to say this but, wilbur & techno are unofficial brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:07:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29059485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itisjosh/pseuds/itisjosh
Summary: But right now, they're not saying anything, verbally or physically. Wilbur sits in the silence, basking in it, even. As much as he loves talking to Techno, it's nice to just sit.It's peaceful.
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade
Comments: 9
Kudos: 181





	last year's winter

Wilbur wishes that he could go out in the snow again. 

He watches as it twirls from the sky, landing on the snow banks that have been there for days, if not weeks. He misses being able to go out and laugh in the snow, catching snowflakes on his tongue, having to shake them out of his hair. Wilbur leans on the windowsill, resting his head on his arms as he watches the snowflakes flutter down from the pale grey sky, looking soft and heavy and fluffy. Wilbur turns his head slightly when he hears footsteps behind him, smiling softly over at Techno. Techno smiles back at him, moving to sit next to him. Wilbur doesn't say anything, and neither does his adoptive older brother, which is fine with him. 

The two of them really have never had to say anything to communicate with each other. One look from Wilbur, and Techno was off with a sword, ready to fight the world. One ear-twitch from Techno, and Wilbur had already planned the best way of how to destroy the people who hurt his friend, his brother. Someone who he cared about deeply. Both of them learnt how to communicate silently, which was more helpful than it really ever should have needed to be. But right now, they're not saying anything, verbally or physically. Wilbur sits in the silence, basking in it, even. As much as he loves talking to Techno, it's nice to just sit. 

It's peaceful.

It's a nice way to calm the constant storm in Wilbur's head. He always hears his voice, though it's much clearer, a little raspy at times. From what Wilbur's heard, from what he's understood and what he's been told, that voice is probably all that remains of himself before he died. Wilbur sighs, closing his eyes for a few seconds as he listens to Techno breathe. He can hear him shift, he can hear the snow fall, landing nearly silently on the ground. Techno nudges him gently with his foot, and Wilbur cracks an eye open, smiling gently up at the Piglin hybrid. "Yes, Technoblade?" Wilbur asks, tilting his head to the side. Techno rolls his eyes, setting a mug by his arm. 

"Hot chocolate. Phil made some for us, for _you_ , specifically. Said that it might help you feel warmer. Not as cold." Techno explains, an easy smile on his lips. Wilbur doesn't really know why that's surprising to him - from what he remembers, which is admittedly limited, Techno's smiles always came easily. He laughed the loudest and grinned the widest, though he always needed a push to get him going. He never went out of his way to talk to anyone new, and when he was in the presence of someone who he didn't know, he was solemn and silent and sturdy, refusing to even crack a smile or let his eyes give anything away. But alone, with his family, he was the brightest light in a room of dark. Wilbur remembers wanting to be like that, he remembers wanting to be able to laugh and smile so easily, just like Techno used to. 

"Thank you," Wilbur smiles, taking the mug in his hands. It doesn't burn his palms, though he wishes that it did. It'd be easier to pretend like he was alive if it burnt him. Wilbur takes a drink, silently wishing that it would warm him up. Unfortunately, hot chocolate isn't going to warm his soul, which has already frozen over. Wilbur doesn't know why, and he's been trying his best to figure it out. He's read everything that he can get his hands on, scouring library after library for books about him, for books about people _like_ him. Wilbur has read hours worth of pages about ghosts and the dead and how to bring them back to life, but it's nothing that he actually _wants_. No, Wilbur just wants to know how to feel warm again, and nothing that he's read has given him even a sliver of a clue on how to do just that. "How's Phil doing?" 

Techno shrugs, just like he always does when Wilbur asks that question. Phil very rarely comes out to talk to him, let alone see him. Wilbur understands, though he really wishes that his father would look him in the eyes. He knows that he told Phil, that he _begged_ him, to kill him. Wilbur remembers dying, he remembers dying very, very well. He remembers the way the sword plunged into his chest, he remembers feeling the blood trickle down his face, falling from his cheeks, pouring out of his mouth. Wilbur remembers the pain - he tries his best to not remember that, though. Wilbur remembers all too much of his death and far too little of anything else, and he hates it. He's sick and tired of not knowing things, and no one tells him anything. 

Maybe, he thinks bitterly, it's because of last time. The last time someone told him something that he did, one of the bad things he did, Wilbur locked himself in his room and refused to come out. He felt like he was dying all over again, but this time, it wasn't freeing, not at all. Wilbur sobbed and cried and his tears burnt his cheeks and left red scorch marks trailing down his face. He ran out of tears to shed after the first few hours, so he resorted to laying in bed and staring at his ceiling, willing himself to disappear. begging a god he didn't believe in to kill him, to finally take him away from this hellhole of an earth. Wilbur cried more after that, sobbing into his pillow and choking on all the words that stuck in his throat. He had stared outside into the snow, and he felt the longing feeling to walk into it and to never return, but he didn't. 

Wilbur doesn't know why he didn't walk into the snow, but he does know that he's grateful that he didn't. He sighs, taking another sip of the hot chocolate that was brought to him. Last time someone told him about the bad things he did, he broke. It took more than glue and duct tape to put him back together again, and it took far longer than he ever thought it would take to fix him. Wilbur understands why people don't tell him anything anymore, and he knows that it's not fair to be angry about it, but he is. And he can't stop himself from being angry about it, so he'll just admit it to himself. "I miss him, you know," Wilbur murmurs under his breath, watching as steam trails out of the mug in his hands. "He's still my sort-of father. I know that you'd miss him if he stopped looking at you." Techno hums in agreement, wrapping an arm around Wilbur's shoulders, pulling him closer to him. Wilbur smiles, resting his head on Techno's shoulder. 

The snow has stopped falling. Wilbur wonders when it'll start back up again. Considering how they live in a tundra, Wilbur thinks that it'll snow again in a few hours, maybe. Thirty minutes, at the very earliest. "I know," Techno hums, his voice low and filled with exhaustion. He always sounds so tired whenever Wilbur brings up Phil, and he wonders if he should just stop talking about their father in general. "I know why he doesn't wanna come out here and talk to you, but it's not fair, 'cause I know exactly what you're feelin', too. It's.." Techno sighs. "It's hard, you know? It's difficult. For everyone here. We've always been a really bad family when it comes to most things, huh?" Wilbur laughs, peering up at the hybrid.

"You never used to be so touchy-feely, Techno. What changed here?" Wilbur asks, quirking an eyebrow. "You would have never let me snuggle up to you, let alone _initiate_ that. Have you..you've gone all soft, haven't you? You're a big softie now, huh?" Wilbur laughs, grinning as Techno playfully shoves him away, though he makes sure to keep a firm grip on his mug so it doesn't spill. "Oh, come on," he laughs, setting his mug on the windowsill. "You love me and you know it, you big softie. I love you too, and I know that you know that, too." 

Techno rolls his eyes at him, sticking out his tongue. "I regret ever meetin' you, Wilbur. It was the biggest mistake of my entire life. You stay away from me, or else I'll stab you," Techno threatens, motioning to the sword on the wall. "You got that?" Wilbur snorts, looping an arm around Techno's shoulders, dragging his older brother closer to him. "Wilbur, you are doin' exactly what I just told you _not_ to do." 

"I'm very bad at listening," Wilbur informs him, resting his head back on Techno's shoulder. "Plus, you're supposed to be warm, right? And if I'm cold, and you're warm, then hopefully warm up. That's the logic I'll pretend I'm using," he grins. "I really just want to stay here and snuggle with the big bad Technoblade, just to prove that you really are just a massive softie now." Techno heaves a sigh, but he wraps his arm back around Wilbur's shoulder, looking down at him with something like fondness mixed with playful irritation. 

"I really should just kick you out of my house." 

Wilbur grins up at him. "But you're not going to, now are you? I think that, if you kicked me out, I'd just sit on your doorstep and complain until you let me back in. I'm extremely convincing, Technoblade. I can and I will sit on your front porch and cry until you let me back in. I'm extremely stubborn. And," Wilbur smiles. "I don't think that you'd want me gone, anyways. Unless you do," he pauses. "If you did, I would leave. But I really don't think you want me gone. Unless I'm, like, horribly fucking wrong. Am I wrong, Techno?" Techno sighs at him, narrowing his eyes. 

"You just want me to say that I'd miss you if you were gone."

"Ding ding ding," Wilbur grins. "You said it. Even if you didn't mean it, you still said it, which is more than good enough for me. Techno," he pauses, glancing over his shoulder. He can hear Phil shuffling around in the kitchen, making his heart hurt. "Do you ever think he'll forgive me? I know that he feels guilty, but he's angrier at me than he is himself," Wilbur pauses. "Which I understand. But I would like it if he could stop hating me. I wasn't.." Wilbur shakes his head, scrunching up his nose as the memories flood back into his head.

_"Kill me, Phil! Kill me!"_

_"There was a saying once, Phil."_

_"By a traitor."_

_"It was never meant to be."_

_"Will, no-!"_

"Wilbur," Techno's hands are on his shoulders, his eyes boring into his own. "Wilbur, are you good? You okay?" He asks, sounding mildly panicked. Wilbur nods a few times, swallowing back the words he thinks he'd like to say. He closes his eyes, breathing in and out, trying to control his heart, feeling how it slams against his chest every second. "Wilbur, can you say somethin'? You're worryin' me, Wilbur."

"I'm alright," Wilbur confirms. "Sorry. Memory," he laughs, rolling his eyes. "Though they're memories I already know I have. A flashback, I guess is what you'd call it," he sighs. "I wasn't in the right mind, is what I wanted to say. When I..did the things I did," he's careful to not trip over a landmine in his own head, careful to not raise any memories or words or phrases that'll send him spiralling back into his room. Wilbur knows how to be careful about his own mind, and he intends to keep doing that. "That really wasn't me, I don't think it was," he admits. "Maybe he could forgive _me_ , rather than the man who died." 

Techno nods, looking away from him. "He will," Techno assures him. "He's just..stubborn. And really bad at forgivin' people. But he'll come around, he always does. You're his son, after all," he smiles. "He'd rather be wrong and admit that rather than losin' you, I promise. Just..give him some time, okay? Phil will come around eventually. It might take a couple of months, or maybe he'll say sorry today, but.." Techno shrugs. "I think you know what I'm gettin' at."

Wilbur smiles. "I do, don't worry," he moves away from his older brother, forcing himself to stand up. He winces when he feels his bones crack and pop, stretching back, nearly bending over to the point of concern. "If I got dressed in the heaviest coat that we've got in this house, do you think I could go out there?" Wilbur asks, motioning to the door that leads to the outside. "I'd like to go out. I'm tired of being trapped in here all the time. It's driving me insane, I think," he sighs. "I think that I'd be okay if I just had a really heavy coat, Techno. I really do." 

"I would prefer if you didn't," Techno admits, standing up along with him. Wilbur smiles when he does. He's still taller, Wilbur is. He can faintly remember a time where Techno was taller than him, but that didn't last long, he thinks. "If I'm not out there with you, then you're not goin' outside," Techno pauses, crossing his arms over his chest. "Luckily for you, I'm a real good person, so I'll go out into the stupid snow with you, Wilbur." Wilbur laughs, nudging Techno with his elbow. 

"Love you too, Techno," he smiles. Wilbur turns away, reaching up for Phil's cloak, which hangs on the door. He pulls it off of its hook, sliding it around his shoulders, settling into the warm fabric. He pauses, standing a little straighter. Warm. Wilbur smiles so hard that his face hurts, feeling tears prick at his eyes. He quickly blinks them away, refusing to let them get in the way of him being happy. He doesn't feel _warm_ , he's still frigid, freezing cold, but he can feel it. The warmth that he longs for, the warmth he craves, he can feel it. "I think I'm going to bury you alive when we get outside." Wilbur announces, pretending like he isn't filled with giddy joy. 

Techno scoffs, opening the door and stepping outside. Fear grips Wilbur's chest for half a second as he stares out into the snow. One wrong move and he could melt away long before Techno could ever get him back inside. Wilbur shakes his head, powering through that emotion, stepping out onto the porch. He grins as the cold hits him in the face, biting at his exposed ears and cheeks. It's..nice. Wilbur doesn't remember the last time he was able to go outside, out of fear that he would melt away. "You look happy. Maybe.." Techno sighs. "We can come out here more often. It'll probably help with everythin' to get you out of the house. I know you miss it," Techno pauses. "I shouldn't have tried keepin' you inside. I probably should've trusted you to not die, huh?" Wilbur beams at him, flipping up his hood.

"It's okay," he assures the man. "You were just worried for me."

"I wasn't." Techno protests, looking away as he juts out his chest, squaring his jaw. Wilbur grins, feeling his eyes crinkle around the sides. He hops off the porch steps, his boots crunching snow underneath of them when he lands. Wilbur thinks that he'd like to have more obvious ghost abilities since he's dead, like being able to fly or go through walls and doors, but he's comfortable with this. It makes him feel more human. 

"Sure, Technoblade," Wilbur teases, holding open a hand. He looks up to the sky, mildly disappointed that it hasn't started to snow again. But, at the same time, he's thankful for that. It means he can take off his hood, it means that that's one thing he doesn't have to worry about right now. Wilbur stands in the snow, listening to the wind and the birds and the house, listening to all of the sounds that he doesn't ever get to hear that often. Wind whips at his face, dragging snow off of the ground and twirling it around the both of them, lacing their clothes in faint lines of white. "I'd like that," Wilbur admits. "To be able to come out here more."

Techno smiles at him, his hands shoved in his coat pockets. "Then we can do that. Not a big deal on my end. It'll be good for me to get out, too. That's the only reason I'm doin' it. Not for you," Wilbur laughs, crouching down. He runs a finger through the snow, leaving little circles and triangles and patterns behind. "How thick are those gloves, Wilbur?" Wilbur looks up at him, beaming. 

"Techno, I'm not melting, now am I?" He laughs. "I'll be okay. I know my limits, I assure you. I don't plan on doing anything stupid that could kill or hurt me. Or permanently maim me for life. Don't worry."

"I'm not worryin'," Techno grumbles. "I'm just..bein' careful. It'd be difficult to bury you. You've got way too much leg, Wilbur. Way too much leg."

"Way too much leg," Wilbur repeats, rolling his eyes. "Don't worry Technoblade," he grabs a handful of snow, beaming under his breath. "You really can't kill a ghost."

He stands as fast as he can, throwing the snow directly at his brother. It hits Techno in the chest, and he watches as Techno stares at him, a mixture of shock and annoyance on his face. 

"Wilbur, I bet that, after that, I can figure out a way to kill a ghost 'nd make it _last_." Wilbur laughs, dancing back on his feet as Techno charges him, avoiding the mock-punches and fake swings that are thrown his way. He weasels out of a headlock, nearly dropping to the ground before he remembers that his face isn't covered, he doesn't have a scarf or his hood up. He manages to barely avoid melting half off his face off, landing on his ass instead. Wilbur scrambles up as quickly as he can, laughing as he races away from Techno. 

"Come and catch me, Technoblade!" Wilbur taunts, leaping back and forth on his feet. "Or are you scared of a ghost?" Techno grins at him. 

"Wilbur, I'm gonna make you regret ever comin' out here."

Wilbur laughs, bending down to grab another fistful of snow, and-

"What the hell are you two doing?" He snaps up when he hears Phil's voice, immediately standing straight and not moving. Techno looks at him, raising an eyebrow, but Wilbur refuses to look back. He stares at the ground instead, softly cursing under his breath. Whatever progress he was making with Phil is definitely fucked now, he thinks. Of course it is. Of course, the one time he gets to do what he wants, the one time he tries to be free, he ruins everything. "Techno, are you really picking on your ghost brother?" 

Wilbur blinks. 

"What? No! That- Wilbur _started_ it! It's not my fault I have to retaliate and beat him up to show him what happens when he throws _snow_ at me. Phil, you gotta take my side here. He's bein' unreasonable."

"Me?" Wilbur grins, feeling his heart soar as Phil wanders down the porch steps to stand next to him. "Being _unreasonable?_ Techno, I really think that you might just have the wrong person." 

Phil laughs, throwing his head back when he does. "Wilbur," Phil smiles at him, something like resigned sadness flashing behind his eyes. "I'm sorry. I think that- I'll need to apologise more, when we get back inside. But," Phil crouches down, picking up a handful of snow. "I think-"

"Don't!" Techno raises his hands, laughing as he ducks back. "Don't do it, Phil! He's swayin' you to his side with his puppy eyes! Come on, Philza, you gotta resist! Phil, don't do this to me!" Phil just grins even more, standing back up. 

"Sorry, Techno," he throws the snow, and Techno barely manages to leap out of the way. "But I'm placing my bets on Will for this one."

Wilbur grins, and he barely even realises it, but-

He feels warm. 

_He feels warm_. 

With Phil right next to him laughing about something, and Techno across from him cracking jokes and complaining about how unfair this all is, Wilbur feels warm. 

He breathes in, cold air hitting the back of his throat, but it does nothing to suppress the warmth in his chest. 

Of course, Wilbur thinks to himself with a smile, of course this is how it happens. No amount of reading, no amount of books or people who claimed to be experts on ghosts, could have ever told him this. He really should have figured it out himself, he thinks. He's warm because he's with his family. He's warm because he's with the people that he loves. He's _warm_ because he's with people who love _him_. 

"You good, Will?"

Wilbur ducks his head, unable to explain how he feels fully, if at all. But that's okay, he thinks. They'll understand.

"Yeah," he smiles. "I'm good."


End file.
